Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the gymnasium buzzed, a sound that grated on Coach Miller's nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. He glared at the roster taped to the wall, his jaw tight. Mark Jensen's name, bold and confident, taunted him. Just looking at the kid’s handwriting made Miller want to rip the paper to shreds.

He slammed his clipboard down on the table, the sharp crack echoing in the otherwise silent room. He’d seen Jensen’s smug grin during tryouts, the way he’d effortlessly dominated the drill, and it fueled a simmering resentment. Now, Miller had a decision to make, and he already knew what it would be.

Later, he'd find Jensen, a little knot of satisfaction tightening in his gut.